


Refinement

by Treehouse



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Development, Isak's Birthday, M/M, feelings with porn, translated work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 09:57:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15928061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treehouse/pseuds/Treehouse
Summary: “Do you want me to stop?” but no, he doesn’t get to stop, not now, not ever.It's Isak's birthday.





	Refinement

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Förädling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14953668) by [Treehouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treehouse/pseuds/Treehouse). 



> This is a translation of my work "Förädling", and it wouldn't have been made at all if it wasn't for the lovely [Mynameisnotthepoint!](http://mynameisnotthepoint.tumblr.com/) Thank you! <3

He inhales shakily and forces himself to relax. Holds on to Even’s upper arms, can’t decide whether to push him away or pull him closer. His body wants it, but rejects it at the same time; it’s too intense, too much. He needs to succumb to the pressure, and he does, every time. And every time, it all shifts, his world turns on its axis. His nerve endings light up, his lungs constrict but almost burst at the same time – on the verge of painful but still so very wonderful; the man he loves as physically close as possible, soft lips against his cheek, forehead, mouth, pupils blown out, eyes almost black but still watching him closely.

“Do you want me to stop?” but no, he doesn’t get to stop, not now, not ever. Isak shakes his head and gets a kiss on the forehead in return as Even pushes closer again, deeper inside, one hand in Isak’s hair, lips against his temple, ragged breath in his ear. That low whine that makes Isak go dizzy with want, that sound that Even makes when it’s just the two of them, naked, entwined, when everything’s perfect and his heart’s beating so fast right now and there’s almost no air left in his lungs.

They’re in their apartment, together, in the bed made with the striped sheets – a gift from Eskild from when Isak moved out of kollektivet. It’s his birthday today and Even woke him up in the best way possible. Trailing kisses down his neck, hands exploring his body, warm and lazy from sleep, slowly waking up in every way, mirroring Even’s own; smiling, hard, and so very beautiful. More kisses, slowly, on his mouth now, a tongue against his; they’ve got all the time in the world. Still halfway attached to sleep, everything soft, no refined edges; weightless, floating even. Even holds him, his strong arms enveloping him; hands caressing him and gently maneuvering him until he’s lying on his back. Isak lets go, relaxes into the mattress, into the pillow; does what Even tells him to. He’ll just let himself be taken care of – it’s his birthday after all. Doesn’t have to do anything. Keeps his hands above his head; is just waiting now, being lead, seduced, willingly going along. His knees are pushed apart by gentle hands, he closes his eyes, knows what’s coming, is longing for it, aching. Fingers and tongue explore him, they’re familiar, know him completely, have been there before. On the inside of his thighs, his groin, between his cheeks and a shaky breath escapes him. Slippery fingers, a warm mouth and then the pressure that is almost too much, that surprises him every time, but that he loves nonetheless and he isn’t even ashamed to beg for more. 

Not too long ago, this would have been unthinkable. What he’s doing now; what he’s enjoying, longing for, aching for. Who he’s longing for. Him, the one who’s always on his mind, who makes him whole, who gives him everything. But back then, locked up in himself, inside someone he wasn’t, he would be disgusted. Talk shit. Go looking for videos, but only to prove that it was nothing, that he didn’t feel that way. At all. And it was unimaginable, had to hurt, had to be impossible. Even when he tried in the shower that one time, it was just to make sure. And it was. Uncomfortable. Shameful. Just like he’d known all along. 

But that was then, almost like a parallel universe, a version of himself that doesn’t exist anymore. Almost. The insecurity and fear still haunts him though. Suffocates him. When they hold hands on the way home late at night. When Even kisses him amongst strangers. When mom texts him. 

And if he’d been braver sooner, would it have been easier? Maybe. If he’d had more faith in his friendship with Jonas or confided in Eskild. Had talked to Eva, maybe. But then maybe more things would have changed, and some things would have ended differently. Maybe he wouldn’t have met Even, and that’s not something he ever wants to think about. Even. The best thing in his life.

So he pulls Even closer, his legs around Even’s waist, his arms around Even’s neck. Lips against lips, their lungs filled with each other’s breath. The sounds traded by their mouths; the sounds that are pressed out of him when Even pushes in deeper, moves slowly back and forth. He stops and brushes a wet curl away from Isak’s forehead, strokes his thumb along his cheekbones, looks down at Isak. Glazed eyes, irises nearly black, see him, see everything, have seen everything. And Isak has nothing to hide. Not with Even. Full lips red and swollen, teeth tugging at the lower lip and he leans down for another kiss, coming closer, more skin touching, slippery with sweat. Deep breath in Isaks ear, the small sounds from Even, and then the sounds of them, together, his heart beating in his throat, his head, his ears. He can see the pulse in Even’s throat, feels how he’s throbbing, there, where Even’s inside of him. He’s almost still now, his movements small, languid, deep. A hand traveling up his leg, down along his sides, between his cheeks, slightly pulling them apart. Fingertips touching where he is already feeling so much, where Even has stretched him out, opened him up, made space for himself. Slick and warm and how is it possible to feel so much? His body, his groin, his heart – everything coils up and shivers and breaks and he has to press his eyes shut again. Everything is raw, pulsing, tender, red - ready to be taken.

A questioning “this okay?” and Isak answers with a hum, incapable of forming words. His body is a bizarre mixture of tightly strung chords and gelatinous mass, and when Even puts his left leg up on his shoulder and pushes inside again, harder, deeper, his whole back arches like a bow and his hands frantically search for something to hold on to. Small crescent-shaped marks appear on Even’s skin when he keeps thrusting just right. Isak is shaking, he’s close now, his breathing rushed, his movements faltering – he hears himself beg for more, urging Even on before everything explodes into white noise. Distantly, he hears Even, feels him still moving inside him, short thrusts that make the static turn pink and blue and his lungs have no air left, he needs to start breathing again.

Even’s hair tickles his chin as he buries his face in the crook of Isak’s shoulder. His body warm and heavy on top of Isak’s, their hearts pressed against one another. Isak just wants to stay here forever. His body is warm, heavy and satisfied, covered by Even, filled with Even. Their heart beats synchronized, their lungs filled with the same air. His love, right here.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my day!  
> Thank you for reading <3


End file.
